The sun shines brightly as I pass by at Mancini's, an Italian guy who rents surfboards and a couple of other stuff in his shop. I'm in the mood to roll in the waves, and lucky for me the Pacific seems enraged today, which gives me thirst for the challenge. The noise, the breeze, the laughter from half-naked ladies and gents make me feel good.

Two days and I haven't heard a word about Liam. His phone is off and I wonder if the hospital lady managed to return it to him or not. Maybe it's with the police now.

"Is this you, bellissima?" Mancini gasps as I dash in.

"The one and only, boo! What's up?" I grin, and he comes over to pull me for a hug. "Jeez, do I get an upgrade from all the missment? I could use the best surfboard you have," I tease, hugging him back.

Big smile, curly raven hair, Mancini is anything but a boring average guy.

"Still looking good, honeybee." He pulls back, speaking in that cute Italian accent upon grasping my appearance. "An upgrade you shall have. Giving you the Godzilla, King of the Sea." He dramatically shows me the big guy—a black and yellow surfboard.

"Hmm, lucky me, but I'll pass. I want my beauty." I reach for my usual surfboard, ready to wax it and get it over with.

"Your wish is my command. But I'm glad you're back in track. Welcome to little Californian Italy. Although I still think our Venice is the best." He can be a charmer.

"There we go again." I roll my eyes. "Fine, I'll someday visit the Italian Venice. And Tuscany, of course." I give him a wink.

"You should, bellissima." He returns behind the counter as two guys pop in asking for something, and it's my cue to move.

The breeze blows my curls, and the waves draw my smile. I simply love the beach life. After a moment I peel off the T-shirt dress I'm wearing, leaving my sports bralette and tight briefs on. I tie my hair into a tight bun, watching the waves rolling furiously.

Sighing, I bend over and fasten the surfboard leash to my ankle. Damn, it's been a while.

Shaken by the waves. cool water splashes on my legs as I lay myself on the board, getting familiar with the ocean before paddling smoothly to the deep water. It's so refreshing. When I see a big wave coming my way, I jump up stoutly, my feet steadfast on the board, ready to face it.

After exploring an hour of surfing, releasing every tension in my body, I finally decide to call it a morning. It's funny how water can fix a lot of things in different ways. It's life. I do feel restored to at least half of my former glory when I juggle back, all soaked and wet.

"Wow, that was quite a move there," a masculine voice says, and my gaze meets the handsome face that draws me a startled smile. "Surprise!"

I stand like a fool, grinning.

"What are you doing here, Escobar? When did you get back from Rio?" I steady the surfboard to my side, water still dripping from my curls.

"God." He sighs, and then wanders off his blue eyes that remind me of someone. My heart shrieks. "After getting myself a third gold medal? And my name is Pedro, in case you've forgotten."

"Such a brag," I remark. "You know I'd never call you Pedro, even if you beg down on your knees, right?' I step onto dry sand, letting it stick to my feet annoyingly.

"Not if you pronounce it like that?" He helps me with the surfboard by carefully placing it down.

I wipe my face with a smile as I watch Pedro Levi, a Cuban-American surfer who made me love surfing at the sight of him crashing the waves so artfully.

"So, what brings you back to Breakwater?" I ask as we both take refuge in the sand. "And congratulations for winning again, by the way." I gaze at him.

"Thanks." His smile is proud yet innocent. "I'm here for you," he says.

"Pardon?" I laugh out loud.

Pedro winces. "Why are you so surprised?" he jovially asks, his blonde hair blown swiftly by the Pacific breeze. "I told you I'd come back for you, and maybe you'd have changed your mind about being my partner."

Oh, I've long forgotten. Our fling was very short to call it a relationship because he was worldly and I wasn't. He wanted a vacation chick and I couldn't offer that much. Yeah, I'm that dull maybe.

"Well, you thought wrong," I answer casually, my eyes lost into the horizon.

"Why? I thought you wanted to find your place in this world—it's what you told me. Shame we couldn't be more than friends even though—" His eyes twinkle and mine narrow. "Okay, okay, you think I'm a Casanova, and I can't give you what you need, I get it."

"Aren't you? Can you give me what I need? A solid relationship that you never had before?" A weak smile escapes my lips as I stare at him, feeling homesick despite being home

I need Liam right now.

"Maybe I can, Kira, who knows? So then, why don't you give yourself a chance to explore new things out of this stinky L.A? You're not up to explore the five major oceans of the Earth? Traveling all over the fascinating cities of the world and see what they have to offer?" He grins incredibly, making me laugh at his grand conviction. "I can give you that much. And maybe the rest can follow, I enjoy taking big risks."

Maybe the eighteen or twenty years old me would have jumped for that chance. It's my dream to travel around the world and he knows that much. But under what conditions? Nothing comes for free.

"No, I'm not up for that," I reply softly. His eyes widen and I chuckle. "Look, Pedro," I use his name perfectly this time, serious in manners. "I appreciate the gesture, of you always trying to push me into this world of yours that sounds like an adventure of a lifetime. But I think my world is enough. I'm one of the people who don't really have grandiose dreams. I'm not the right woman for you."

Plus, all I want is someone to call my home.

"You are," he says seriously. "You have been, from the very first day I set my eyes on you. When you showed me the awestruck look I never got from any other fan before, and mostly when you asked me to teach you."

"That's sweet, Escobar, but I'm sorry to say no thank you," I tell him quietly. "I'm not gonna fit in and I'm not planning to try. Surfing is my hobby but it's a life for you. Live it, enjoy it, and you'll meet that special someone along the way. It's just not me."

He holds his breath before releasing it heavily. "So, it's a second rejection?"

"Well, it's a third actually," I tease, and he squints hard. "But I have a better plan for us so this day doesn't go to waste. How about a round of two in the waves for sake of old times?" I stand up with a big smile.

Seemingly a bit dejected, Pedro stretches his hand for me to pull him up. "Okay. Let's see what you got, Cleopatra."

"Stop calling me that!" I warn as he rises up, laughing gently. "Now let's go so I can kick your ass!"

"Ha, you wish." He laughs heartily and my day proceeds splendidly.

Lunch with Pedro is what I do next before calling it a day. He has a flight to catch this evening so I wish him all the best before we part ways. He's a good guy, just a bit of a casanova. When I arrive home I get a surprising call from Malik. I quickly throw my bag on the couch and pick it up.

"Professor." He sounds desperate. "Professor, I'm very sorry. I just found out that you called last night and—"

"Malik, where is Liam?" I find myself more desperate than he is, ignoring his plea. "Please, tell me where I can find him. I'm going crazy, and if I don't see or hear anything from him I swear I'm going to lose it."

"Okay, calm down, Professor," says Malik with a soft chuckle. "Breathe, huh?"

"Okay." I take a deep one. "Happy? I'm breathing."

He laughs.

"Okay. Liam is fine and he'll call you soon. I got in touch with him through our associates. He lost his phone but he got a call from the police that they have it. He's dealing with so much right now and that's why he's been off the radar," Malik explains. "Some crisis happened in our New York office and he's dealing with it. Also . . ." His voice trails.

"Also what?"

"Well, a friend of his had an accident so . . ."

"So he's also attending to that, right?" I urge. Why do I feel like I'm missing something? "So he's still in New York?"

"Yeah," Malik says.

"Where? I mean, where does he stay over there?"

Have I been to New York? Maybe when I was a child.

"Um . . . probably in a hotel? Or in the loft we have in Manhattan, I don't know." He sounds unsure. "Why? You're going there?"

Why not?

"If it's my only option, yes," I answer, more to myself. "Can you locate him, Malik? Please?"

"Well, I'll try."

"Thank you so much."

"It's alright," he utters softly. "Um, about yesterday—"

Oh, the French bitch!

"Malik, it's okay. I guess I called in a bad time, and I should be the one to apologize."

"No, Professor." He sounds troubled with the fact, and I don't want him to be; he doesn't owe me any explanation, I believe. "I don't want you to—"

"Malik, I said it's fine. I was shocked, but I guess the lady was overwhelmed. But I gave her a piece of my mind so in case she complains, just know I didn't let it slide."

"Oh? No wonder." He stifles a laugh.

"Don't worry, Your Highness. I'm glad I'm not an ugly professor," I say, and his laughter fills my ear. "Okay, I'll let you work now, as I suppose it's what you've been doing before my call."

"Okay, I'll try to find Liam, but I'm sure he is still in New York for some business matters."

"Okay, thank you." I hang up, feeling half-relieved after my conversation with Malik.

If Liam is going to throw our love away, then he should at least do it to my face.